


Smithereens

by maya_talbot



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Wilbur Soot - Fandom
Genre: November 16th, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), smithereens, the finale, wilbur blows up l'manberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maya_talbot/pseuds/maya_talbot
Summary: Why Wilbur blew up L' Manberg.(AU in which Wilbur also hears voices like Techno)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Smithereens

In careful steps, Wilbur approaches the button on the wall. His shaky fingers brush over it as he closes his eyes to prevent tears from rolling down his pale cheeks. Seconds away from pressing it.  
“There used to be a special place. Used to be, used to be. Isn’t there anymore. There used to be a…” He muttered under his breath. The awareness of his surroundings was long gone, just to be replaced with a chronic delirium. Day after day, the voices get stronger. He’s never told anybody about them, he doesn’t want to be called insane - as if they don’t call him that already.

Blow it up. Come on, blow it up. What are you waiting for? Press the button. Press it. Blow it up. Smithereens.

“Stop, just- shut up.” Wilbur whispers to the noise filling his senses. His hands are covering his ears, then pulling his hair, anything to shut them up, but they won’t stop. No matter how much he wishes for them to stop. Desperation looms above his head. He can only let out a quiet whimper and bang his fist against the wall - an inch away from destruction.

All of a sudden, he hears footsteps behind him. He isn’t sure if they are real, but he turns around nonetheless. His eyes widen at the sight of his father, standing in the narrow hallway. “Phil?”

“Will, what are you doing?” The man asks in a calm tone. 

“I… I’m- I’m hiding, you know?” Wilbur stumbles over his words. “They’re shouting- I mean, fighting.” He shakes his head and corrects himself. “Can you hear them outside? The- the gunshots are so loud.”

Phil remains quiet, wordlessly waiting for his son to continue. And he does.

“Do you know what this button is?” He asks, voice trembling.

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you-” Phil begins, but Wilbur immediately cuts him off. Unbeknownst to him, Wilbur is barely able to hear him speak over the begs and pleas in his head screaming at him to press the fucking button. 

“I was just saying, before- before you came, that there was a special place, there was, but it’s not- not there anymore. You know? And. it can never exist again.” The pitch of his tone moves up an octave, and he is near bursting into tears - trying his hardest not to cry in front of somebody else.  
Phil notices, and lays a hand on his son’s shoulder. Gently, as not to scare him. Wilbur flinches at the contact. “It can exist again.” The older says. 

The fighting sounds from the outside get louder, and so do the voices in Wilbur’s mind. He cries out and pushes Phil away from him, his short breaths turning into hyperventilation as his hand advances closer and closer towards the button. “I’m sorry, Phil.” His entire body trembles. 

“Will, stop!” 

“It was never meant to be.”

And with those words, a click echoes through the room. With a smile, Wilbur crumbles to the floor and cries harder than he ever has before. A deafening explosion is the only thing he hears - for the very first time in so long. His joy is short-lived, however, as only seconds later the voices return. 

Traitor. Terrorist. Murderer. You killed your friends. You destroyed L’Manberg. Insane. Psycho.

“Phil,” he stands up and latches onto his father once his legs give out from trembling. “Kill me.”

A sharp pain took over Wilbur’s entire body, his muscles stiffening when his father jabs his dagger right through his chest. He shrieks and collapses onto a sobbing Phil, who was now carrying a dead son in his arms.

The voices are finally silent.

**Author's Note:**

> @tubbomonarchy on twitter :)  
> i hope you enjoyed! leave kudos if you did, it'd be much appreciated. thank you!


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